| Poppy Dreams And Wedding Terrors |
| Summary: | Opium is a hell of a drug, as Genoveffa discovers. |
| Date: | 10-24-1865 |
| Related: | TBD |
| NPCs: | {$npc} |
| Players: |
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(OOC Warning - Graphic descrption of gore and blood and corpses. Read at own risk.)
It was not a good night for Genoveffa. An unexpected cold spell came in from the North, bringing an extra chill with it which caused her still-healing wound to ache. So much so, in fact, that the healer gave her poppy for her pain. At first the medicine was refused, the potent drug being something Genoveffa feared, but eventually the discomfort became too much to endure and, with lingering concern, the brew was consumed. Ten, perhaps fifteen minutes passed before she found herself drowsing in her chair before the fire and not long after that her father carried his sleepy daughter to her chambers, much like he used to when she was but a wisp of a girl. Daisy helped her get into a night shift and under the covers, not that she noticed anything besides being warm and comfy.
At first, Gwen slept comfortably and her mind was clear enough to allow for lucid dreams. Peaceful dreams of… What was the setting? A celebration? A festival? While the circumstances of the gathering did not make sense at least the identities of those she could see were readily made out. Mother and Father and her siblings were present and all dressed in their finery, oh so beautiful and handsome in doublets and gowns in blue and silver, and their guests were equally stunning in their chosen attire.
At first everyone was gathered together, in a crowd, mingling and enjoying themselves, but then a light fanfare sounded and the people parted, creating an aisle between them. A man and woman approached, both dressed in the trappings of those just married, each laughing merrily as everyone cheered and congratulated them. Their features, obscured at first as if walking in a heavy mist that was brightly illuminated from behind, became clearer as they drew closer. The man was Lord Joffrey while the lovely young lady on his arm was Genoveffa.
Somewhere a small group of musicians struck up a song known to be the happy couple’s favorite, one the two had danced to many times during their courtship and betrothal. As if one person, the two move in perfect unison, swaying and twirling and spinning to the music as if under a spell, the entire time looking deeply into each other’s eyes. It was easy to tell they were so very much in love, the kind of love only heard about in fairy tales. When the song reached it’s conclusion Joff placed a few fingers under his wife’s chin, lift her face as he leaned in, and the two shared a kiss as wonderful as the dance was.
Then… chaos.
The semi-clear images were replaced by quick flashes of sounds and visions:
Barbarians.
Swords.
Blood… so much blood.
Death.
At the end it was only the bride who was left standing, the blue gown so soaked with blood that it took on a deep red, almost black color, her hands and face also smeared with the gore. Gwen could feel her mouth move, trying to form the names of her brothers and sisters, attempting to call for her mother, father, Joffrey. But instead of words only piercing screams came out, each one more heart-rending than the last until nothing but hoarse croaking could be made with.
Frantically, the young bride started to run, looking for her family, her husband, anyone else who might have survived but with the carnage it was easy to tell after only scant seconds that no one lived. The young children who were present were perhaps the luckiest as they had met deaths that were swift, their small bodies easily bled out in only a matter of minutes while the larger of men suffered the worst of it. Heads were dashed upon stone walkways and blood pooled on the ground to congeal, with the smell of copper and other, even less-savory scents hanging in the air. An attempt to flee was made but Genoveffa slipped on a pile of entrails and she fell, resulting in her coming face to face with her beloved Joffrey’s corpse, his head on the ground several feet from where his body came to rest. Tears streamed down her face as she shrieked, once more crying out, this time not only out of fear but out of heartbreak.
With a start, Genoveffa bolted upright, the night terrors following her into wakefulness. Daisy, who was sitting beside her and trying to shake her awake, was calling her name. Took her a moment but full-consciousness eventually came to her and she took to clinging to her friend. No words were spoken between the girls, the two instead holding on to the other until nearly dawn when Gwen fell asleep again.